


Sap Of The Poplars

by Bawgdan



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Drama, Friendship/Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29124969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bawgdan/pseuds/Bawgdan
Summary: Belladonna Took has waited her entire life for the right seasoning, the perfect flavor to sate her appetite. Who would've thought the secret ingredients would be just a smidgen of gumption and a pinch fearlessness?
Relationships: Bungo Baggins/Belladonna Took
Kudos: 2





	Sap Of The Poplars

_**"People laugh at me because I use big words. But if you have big ideas, you have to use big words to express them, haven't you?" ~ L.M. Montgomery** _

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Belladonna has what her mother calls the _dizzy guts_. It's the night before her wedding and while she has been mostly elated, delighted to finally challenge the world as a woman, there has been a burgeoning doubt. She's been unwittingly ignoring it with sweet breads and gossip. A silent, monstrous, greedy thing it was. Belladonna is sitting by the hearth when she realizes how swollen her shadow looks on the floor. Her wedding dress neatly folded over the back of her favorite chair. The vanity cluttered with all the oils and powder suited for a bride.

She is bloated with worrisome thoughts. It hits her that maybe, perhaps, getting married isn't a good idea. That it is something society simply expects a woman to do. Especially a Took.

Instead of sleeping to prepare herself for her big day, full of doubt, food, and beer, Belladonna knits by the fire until the skein of red yarn is nothing more than a tangled knot. A scarf she will never wear like the life she'd never had the courage to go after.

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She woke up from the little sleep she did gain with the crumbs of sugar cookies on her chest. Her mother had stormed into her bedroom, snatching open the curtains with a tray of breakfast food.

So the _cling clanging_ of her wedding had begun. The Took house isn't known for it's quietude. They're a healthy family of boisterous personalities. For the first time, ever, in her Tookish life, Belladonna thought her house was much too noisy.

Belladonna is squeezed into her skirts. Her hair plaited with ribbons and fresh flowers. She thought, funnily enough, how soon they'd die, drowning in her sweat. The anticipation, her dizzying guts, made the back of her neck clammy.

When she frees herself of her mother, cousins, and aunts, she searches for her father through the ruckus. Their house is filled with neighbors going in and out of the front door with the tables and kitchenware. The Old Took's ginormous laughter rolls down the hall of busy bodies. She follows his phlegmy guffaw into the parlor. By the largest window in the Took house, her father is pouring a hunched over Gandalf a cup of tea. The tip of his hat crushed against the ceiling.

"Papa, would it be too much trouble to kick everyone out? My skull is full of soup." Belladonna marches up to the old men.

"They're here for you, no?" Gandalf dribbles some of the tea into his silvery beard.

"Between you and me—I'm for certain they're all here for the food. Everyone knows that's what weddings are good for." Belladonna flicks a braid over her shoulder.

"And for stories to tell and quite a story it will be! Can you believe it, Gandalf? Belladonna of all of my children. That Baggins boy wants to spend the rest of his life with her..." The Old Took quirked a brow. Belladonna has a reputation for being mouthy but she's never done anything to disparage the Took name. Unlike most of the women, she barks her opinions more than she shares them.

"Your daughter with a blunt tongue—that can be taken to win wars, so you've said." Gandalf winks at Belladonna. All of her life, Gandalf has been an old man. His skin hasn't dulled, the wrinkles in his forehead don't sag like her father's.

"That Baggins boy thinks I'm funny. Says I'm clever." Belladonna puts her hands on her hips.

"That you are. Too clever I'm afraid." The Old Took acquiesces. When Belladonna was born, lightning rippled across the sky and the wind blew so hard, the trees leaned sideways. She'd ripped Adamanta in half. Gerontius knew then what kind of daughter he was destined to have.

"Are you happy, Belladonna?" Gandalf has this knowing look on his face. He always looks as though he is keen to something glaringly obvious that you have yet to discover.

"Pardon?" She had heard him clearly but disgusted her dizzy guts when a loud crash and tumbled startled the house. Gerontius mumbles a string of swears under his breath, propping himself from his chair to inspect the overwhelming madness of his house.

"Does Bungo make you happy?" Gandalf sips his tea.

Belladonna takes a moment to pick the right answer. Bungo is a sweet man. He doesn't find her crassness appalling. He isn't scared of her transparency. She isn't unhappy. Belladonna is satisfied and very much in love. Unfortunately satisfied isn't enough. Satisfaction isn't exciting.

"He likes me for me. Of course I'm happy, but..." Belladonna takes her father's seat at the window. She crosses her ting legs, her white skirts folding in a way that exposes her prickly ankles.

"I sometimes, I have always wished that I could just get up and go. I feel like I'm missing out on something bigger than this. That this—" Belladonna gestures at the frills and bows and flowers of her frock. "Should come much later, when one is properly acquainted with the world and what it has to offer."

Gandalf beams because he understands exactly what she means.

"Oh but you absolutely can just go." He waves at hand at the window. His sleeve flutters.

"Just go?" Belladonna mimics the lightness of his wrist spinning in the air. "That easy, aye?"

"Miss Took, it most certainly is the easiest thing one can do. Just up—" Gandalf holds up his tea cup as Belladonna finishes her father's cup, "And go! I'm doing it today."

"You're not staying for the food?" Belladonna smacks her lips, mildly offended by the dismissed brunch, lunch, evening sweets, and bottomless dinner that will be her wedding.

"I'm afraid not. I have a place to go. Folk to see." He grimaces at the sound of Gerontius arguing with his relatives.

"What sorts of folk are more interesting than my wedding?" Belladonna agrees there are far more important things than a massive wedding. Sure, the food will be in abundance but when is it ever not? Hobbits don't waste food nor spare joy.

"All sorts of folk, Miss Took."

They gaze at each other, breathing in the silence of this shared moment. This knowingness. Gandalf's eyes twinkle and Belladonna's doubt expands against her bodice.

The Old Took hobbles through the door, muttering again to himself. Belladonna doesn't get up from his seat.

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**Author's Note:**

> So I had an idea and it's not a very good one but why not? Forgive me if I'm not married to the canon. I'm not one of those people who has absorbed all the lore. Tolkien's world is so expansive, I'm sure I could never get it right even if I tried my hardest. So I apologize for any holes. 
> 
> This idea has always been with me since the discourse of Tolkien not having a lot of female representation and I just think there's so many good female characters in the universe. So many people over look them. At least, from what I've seen way back in the day when I used to read a lot of LOTR fics. I wanted to write something unconventional a feminine. I've always wanted to write a Tolkien fic but felt that I didn't have the expansive knowledge required to do it. Heres my shot at it cos the world is coming to an end and the planet is melting. Forgive my errors. This fic will not be a very long one. thank you for reading if you found this weird fic.


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